


Um Like Your Smile is Totally Ruling Me Right Now

by indevan



Series: Yellow Lighter [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4049350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mibuchi’s always liked men who were polite, soft-spoken.  It still boggles his mind that he’s ended up with someone loud and who has a complete symphony of farts and belches in different keys and tones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Um Like Your Smile is Totally Ruling Me Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> a somewhat companion piece to "Hey Can I Borrow Your Yellow Lighter" starring Mibuchi because Mibuchi/Nebuya is #yes  
> like the first story, this one also uses a Japanther song as its title.

He remembers when the fighting started.  Remembers staring at his father’s retreating back with his arms over his chest and his mom’s hand on his shoulder.  How she turned him around and said, “Never let me down, Reo, please.”

It’s worse when he comes back and tries to be a family again, if only for a few weeks.  They eat together and his father sniffs at his hair, his clothes, his appearance.  “Glad I’m back,” he always says and Reo hangs his head.  He never feels shame unless his father is there.  And then he’s gone again, going after his new assistant, secretary, a woman he meets at a noodle stand.  And it’s him and his mom and she’s broken once more.

Today, his father is gone and he’s with his teammates in the locker room.  There’s bruises on his wrist and he doesn’t want anyone to notice.  Nebuya hasn’t yet.  Last time, he said “You’re coming to stay with me” with this wounded look in his eyes as he cradled him during lunch on the roof.

“Have you two done it yet?” Hayama asks.

Mibuchi looks up from his locker.  Hayama’s grinning and he can see Akashi on the bench, looking at them both.  His towel is around his neck and he looks...smaller, almost innocent.

“Is that your business?” he sniffs.  Nebuya is in the weight room and can’t say a thing.  Hayama’s smile is deviously dazzling and so he relents. “Yes.”

“Good!  Then you can answer my question, Reo-nee.” Again, devious. “Does he say things like ‘muscle rimjob’ during sex?”

Mibuchi gives him a withering look. “No.”

Akashi glances between them and turns his lips down.  His legs are crossed and even though he’s wearing grubby gym clothes he is straight-backed and regal.  Mibuchi maybe had a crush on him, once.

“What’s…” His eyes skirt to the side and he frowns as if at himself. “What’s a rimjob?”

Hayama turns and blinks at him and Mibuchi can’t help but stare either.

“Are you...a virgin?” Hayama asks.  On the last words, he drops his voice to a whisper.

Akashi straightens and lifts his chin, his gaze indignant.

“You say that,” he says slowly, deliberately, “like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not.” Mibuchi shoots a look at Hayama who flashes back a pointed-tooth grin.

“Is there anyone you’re interested in?” Hayama asks.

They’ve gotten a more genial relationship with their captain since the Winter Cup.  He seems looser, happier.  He doesn’t hang out with the three of them, making them a bonafide posse, but he has connected with his friends and he smiles more.  He smiles more and the smiles don’t look like he is thinking of ways to prepare your corpse for dinner.  Now, though, he isn’t smiling.  In fact, at Hayama’s question, he looks cornered and scared.

“Ah, no…” His eyes flick from side to side--an obvious tell.

In a sudden movement, Hayama sprawls across the bench and rubs his head into the small of Akashi’s back.

“Who?  Who?”

Mibuchi assesses how he feels while Hayama grills him.  He had a crush, once, because Akashi’s intimidating, sure of himself and, strangely, polite.  Mibuchi’s always liked men who were polite, soft-spoken.  It still boggles his mind that he’s ended up with someone loud and who has a complete symphony of farts and belches in different keys and tones.  He isn’t jealous that Akashi is interested in someone and that that someone isn’t him because the crush has faded.  The crimson-tinted waves of his weird, unrequited crush have ebbed and he could finally see Nebuya on the shore, waving in some sort of weird...he can’t figure out how to continue this metaphor but he is a bit relieved that he doesn’t feel jealous.

“No one,” he insists but a flush almost as red as his hair is spreading down his neck.

“Is it your ex-teammate?  Kur-o-ko?” Hayama asks. “You’ll have to go through tiger boy--growl, growl!”

“It isn’t Tetsuya.”

Mibuchi shakes his head.  If he wants, he can point out that Hayama talks big for someone who gets nervous every time he wants to kiss Izuki but he doesn’t because, truthfully, he’s been friends with Hayama longer than Akashi’s been their captain.

“That one with the green hair that always looks like he smelled something bad?” he persists. “You like those taken boys?”

Akashi arches his back to stave off Hayama’s incessant nuzzling and the flush has spread to his chest.

“It isn’t Shintarou, either.  I’ve never been on a team with him.”

“A-ha!” Hayama shouts with all the fanfare of Edison and the light bulb. “There is someone!”

Mibuchi puts a hand over his mouth and giggles slightly.  He’s glad that in high school his friends are some flavor of queer.  In middle school, he was the only one on his team and, not only that, he seemed to have it inked on his skin or a flag over his head.  His teammates weren’t...malicious but they avoided him in the locker room and excluded him from outings.  They kept him because he was good, an Uncrowned King, but they didn’t like him.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Hayama’s dramatic gasp.

“It’s that twitchy brunette, right?  The one from Seirin?  I saw you looking at him after the game--oh, oh!”

Akashi is positively glowing with embarrassment and Mibuchi steps in.  He pulls Hayama to his feet and rubs his back.

“Kota-chan, please.  It’s his business.”

Akashi fades and the look he gives Mibuchi is one note shy of grateful.  Hayama frowns at him, suddenly, all teasing of Akashi done.

“This is new,” he says quietly as he gingerly takes Mibuchi’s wrist in his hand.

He tries to pull away but he’s too fast and holds fast.

“You’ve been home,” Akashi says.  It’s not a question.

Mibuchi feels ashamed.  Nebuya doesn’t know he’s been home.  His mom gets worse when he’s away and sometimes he thinks if he pops in, has dinner, she’ll be alright but it always ends the same.  Akashi looks at him intently and he remembers when his captain first saw his bruises and told him about his father.  He said, “My father never laid a hand on me but there’s lots of ways to abuse someone.”  His eyes had shone eerily but there was no coldness there.  Mibuchi couldn’t meet them.

Now he stares at them both and wishes the rest of the team was there, wishes Nebuya was there.

“I made a mistake,” he says and puffs air out. “She’s my mother.”

His mother, so small and delicate, who leaves more than just bruises on his skin.  Because it’ll be okay.  They’ll fight and she’ll say that any boy he’s with will destroy him, she’ll grab him until there’s bruises pressed like petals into his skin.  Then he’ll come down and she’ll have made dinner and they’ll eat together and it’ll be fine for a little while.

They don’t understand.  He doesn’t like being a drain on his boyfriend’s family.  Nebuya’s family won’t let him even contribute to food.  They let him stay in his room even though they have to know what they’re doing.  More than that, it’s weird not going home.  It feels like he’s abandoning her, just like his father.

“I’m going to shower,” is what he says instead and disappears on them.

\--

Nebuya sees the bruises immediately.  In bed, kissing in that lazy sort of way that comes with being together and knowing each other so well.  There’s no rush to their foreplay, no more awkward fumbling.  They know each other, know their bodies.  That’s why he sees the bruises.

“Reo,” he whispers and, God, that voice.  It does things to his crotch and somewhere up north--heart territory.

“I’m sorry,” he says because he can’t lie, can’t make excuses.  Not to his Eikichi.

“It’s fine...I just worry.” He kisses his neck, his go-to place on Mibuchi to kiss.  His neck is constantly covered in little love bites.

“I know.” He tilts his head back and snuggles down deeply into his embrace.

“Reo…” His lips still, the kissing paused. “I don’t wanna be that guy but...when you go home, can I come with?”

Mibuchi considers it.  Will it be worse or better if Nebuya comes with him?  His mom gets especially scared when she sees him with guys.  Still, if he’s there...she won’t freak out when he’s there.  He knows that’s why.  Nebuya is scared for him.

“Alright,” he concedes.

He feels Nebuya’s sigh of relief.  It’s a new sound in the usual symphony his boyfriend emits.  With as much food as he puts away hourly, he’s constantly making some kind of noise.  Little burps or farts--even in bed--or just the gurgles of digestion.  Long ago, Mibuchi thought it gross but now it’s.  Comforting.

“Can we stop talking about it for now?” he asks. “Everyone’s been harping on it.”

He reaches down and laces his fingers with Nebuya’s.  He lifts their joined hands and kisses their fingers.

“It’s ‘cause they’re worried too, Reo.”

He knows it.  He just wants to drop it for now.  He turns in Nebuya’s arms and lifts his head to kiss him.  Separates their hands and reaches down, down.

“Trying to distract me, huh?” Nebuya catches his hand, lifts it to his mouth and nibbles it.

“A little.”

He chuckles and leans down to kiss him.

\--

From the outside, it doesn’t look like a double date.  Izuki is yawning from his long train ride.  Hayama has an arm around him and his head is on his shoulder but people see what they want to see.  But Mibuchi, with the flashing sign over his head, every touch he shares with a boy is deemed sexual.  Izuki and Hayama can walk down the street hand in hand and people say, “Oh, it’s just guys being dudes.”  He wishes he can touch Nebuya like that in public.  At night, in the bars they lie their way into it, they can get away with it.  Everyone in a drunken haze.  Everyone tired and heavy-lidded.  Otherwise, they can’t.  People give Nebuya shit a lot that he tries to laugh off but when they see Mibuchi touch him, see him with his arm around his waist or his hand in his, and they get downright venomous.

He contents himself with bumping their knees under the table while he watches his boyfriend slurp down his sixth bowl of noodles.  Izuki seems pretty impassive to the sight and Mibuchi gives him some credit.  Then again, he’s seen their Kagami eat so maybe he’s used to it.

“So I’m wondering…” Izuki says and puts a hand over his mouth to stave off a yawn. “Did you Kings ever hang out with each other?”

“Would _you_ wanna hang out with Hanamiya?” Hayama asks.  He crosses his eyes and wags his tongue.  Izuki laughs and bumps him with his shoulder.

“We met in high school,” Mibuchi supplies. “Since we all chose Rakuzan.”

Nebuya nods and he gulps down the last of his bowl.  He puts it on the growing stack next to him and belches into his fist.

“Glad I did.” He places a broth-wet kiss on his cheek and Mibuchi feels himself flush.  The restaurant they’re in isn’t crowded and he’s grateful for that.  It lets them do a bit more.

Hayama makes kissy faces but Izuki nods, suitably pleased.

“Yeah, Kiyoshi said that same thing.” He tweaks his mouth to the side and says, “Well I mean, that you all never were really friends.”

“Or that he didn’t want to hang with Hanamiya?”

“The guy who had his team permanently injure him?  Not so much.”

“He could be a nice person when he’s not ordering bodily harm.” Mibuchi can’t help but to chime in.

Hayama wrinkles his nose. “He looks like the guy kind of guy you give a blowjob to in exchange for pills at a party.”

Izuki flushes a little and that raises Mibuchi’s interest.  He knows that he and Hayama haven’t slept together yet but he wonders if Izuki has slept with anyone.  Mibuchi is guilty of thinking most people aren’t virgins.  Nebuya wasn’t when they first had sex and neither was he.  Hayama’s secondary name was the “blowjob king” of his middle school.  Still, he isn’t going to ask.  Like with Akashi, it’s his business.

“Sorry, Shun.” Hayama gives him a lopsided smile.

“It’s fine.  I don’t have a lot of experience with people who are...ah, experienced?” He pokes his noodle bowl.  He isn’t so embarrassed that he can’t make puns, at least.

Next to him, Nebuya is on his seventh.  Mibuchi didn’t even see it be replaced.

“Ah.” Hayama looks at him and he drops his voice as he says, “Don’t worry.”

“Kota-chan,” he says with a weary sigh. “We’re in a restaurant.”

Nebuya belches next to him and Mibuchi sighs.

“You too, Eikichi.”

He smirks around his bowl and says, “You love it.”

“Be that as it may…”

He gives in and leans into his side.  Hayama smacks his lips together and flutters his eyebrows.  Izuki smiles in a way that seems to say “I want to join in on making fun but I’m still not comfortable in this group.”  He seems to be looser, though, a bit happier.  Hayama has that effect on people when they’re not being wound up over his antics.

“I’m glad you came out here,” Mibuchi says and Izuki smiles gratefully.

“Yeah.  You must really like Kotarou.”

Mibuchi elbows Nebuya discreetly because now they’re both blushing.

“What?”

“Eat your noodles.”

 


End file.
